


Bloody Hell!

by TheLiveshipParagon



Category: Constantine (TV), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Hellblazer, Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, British Slang, Crossover, F/M, Fights, Host Clubs, Humor, Lux (Lucifer TV), Magic, Protective Lucifer, Sarcasm, Skinwalker, Snark, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-09 21:19:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18925231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLiveshipParagon/pseuds/TheLiveshipParagon
Summary: After going to scope out Lux, Constantine gets more than she bargains for when she finally finds her soulmate after fifty years of searching and it’s the last person she expects.*Please do not replicate my work without my express permission*





	Bloody Hell!

**Author's Note:**

> Commission piece for Scythe195
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)

John sighed as she let her hand skip over the bouncer’s arm at Lux and felt that familiar disappointment.

Honestly, why did she bother any more? She knew it wasn’t going to happen. Finding your soulmate was a fruitless task in a world full of seven billion people. They could be anywhere. It was so unlikely they’d be living in the same town as you as well. More likely they’d be in bloody Phuket or something difficult.

The bouncer didn’t give a degree of notice to the strange touch. People were used to it. Of course women got away with it more than men and John was grateful she wasn’t sporting gonads or this interaction would be really awkward.

“Go on in, miss,” the bouncer said.

Miss. The bloody nerve! Not like she could spout off that she was approaching seventy. She may not look it but she flipping well felt it sometimes.

She made her way into the nightclub, her fingers making contact with everyone she could on the way down from the mezzanine. It was almost apathetic now.

Fifty odd years of trying to find ‘the one’ and settling for less, settling for one night stands in back alleys and drunken fumbles on grotty sofas, settling for short term relationships that both of them knew would never last.

She’d given up hope. I mean….her day job wasn’t exactly killer dating small talk either. Fighting demons, vampires and the general nasties that hide in the shadows would take a certain type of person to be able to deal with it. Who would be mental enough to want that for a lifetime?

Maybe she could be one of those mad spinsters who has twenty cats and smells faintly of old cabbage. Then again, she was more of a dog person. After meeting the Egyptian goddess Bastet, John viewed cats with more than air of suspicion these days.

_Back to the task at hand, Johnny. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and buck the fuck up._

She let her eyes scan the room, seeing the various collective wealth and feeling just a tad underdressed in her usual suit and trenchcoat. She was pretty sure some of the patrons were giving her odd looks like she didn’t belong here. She probably didn’t, to be fair.

She was in Lux, the club that Lucifer Morningstar apparently ran. It’d be on her 'to do’ list to visit and make sure everything was above board for a while now but she’d only just gotten over to the States after a big mishap with some druids in London.

So far it seemed alright. It was what you’d expect from a high end club…apart from the supernatural on the bar.

John had been in the game long enough to know the signs of when someone wasn’t human. The woman dressed in leather and giving murderous glances was just a bit of a giveaway.

They locked eyes and the woman gave a quizzical look before returning to glower at some poor unfortunate who was trying to chat her up.

John approached the bar, sitting on the stool and patiently waiting. She felt a few people’s hands trace along her back as she did so, obviously checking if they were compatible.

Briefly, whilst she was awaiting her turn, she wondered for the millionth time what it would feel like if she ever did meet her soulmate. Chas had told her it was like a static shock almost and the first words you speak to each other appear on your wrist.

Though quite how much she believed that the cosmic forces knew the right person for everyone was a matter of faith. After all, Chas’ soulmate was apparently Renee who was the most odious, selfish and ballbashing woman she’d ever come across.

“Hey Miss Detective,” the bartender purrs as she slinks across the unit, her arms splayed a little on the counter. “The 1940s called and they want their fashion back.”

“I’ll get on that,” John counters. “And Nine Inch Nails called, they’re pissed you stole their stage outfits.”

“Funny,” she smirks. “I like you. What do you want?”

“Gin and tonic,” John answers automatically.

Gotta stick with the classics.

“Boring but sure,” she replies.

“Jazz it up then,” John shrugs. “No skin off my nose, lass.”

“What’s your name, noir girl?” she asks as she’s pouring a drink.

“John.”

“Wow, did your parents hate you, huh?” she snorts.

“Me old man did, yeah,” the reveal doesn’t even phase her any more. She’s too used to the weird reactions. “S'pose your name is Chanel or Angel or some such bollocks?”

“Mazikeen,” she hands the drink over.

Mazikeen….that struck a cord in John’s memory.

_Mazikeen, Mazikeen….where have I heard that before?_

“So what are you then? Ghoulie? Vamp? Demon?” John knocks the liquid back down her throat.

It was always easier to do investigative work with a stiff drink in your system. Lubricated the old grey cells, you see.

If Mazikeen was shocked, she didn’t show it. Instead she just raised her scarred eyebrow and looked marginally more interested.

“Demon,” she finally says. “Clever girl. So…what are you?”

“Petty dabbler in the Dark Arts,” John leans back.

“So…..witch then?”

“Magus. Little bit less restrictive than witchcraft.”

“You just went up a few levels of hotness,” Mazikeen winks. “Here for pleasure?”

“Actually I’m here to check out your boss,” John looks behind her at the throngs of people. “Kind of a thing I do, checking out the mortal plain residing demons and celestials.”

“So you’re the supernatural police?” Mazikeen bursts into laughter. “Oh baby, arrest me.”

“Maybe later, luv,” John winks. “So where is your bossman?”

“Over there with the brunette,” she nods to a corner where a dapper looking dark haired man in a suit is grinning whilst stroking a girl’s hair back over her ear.

“ _That’s_  Lucifer Morningstar? Samael? The Lightbringer?” John blinks. “I thought he’d be…”

“He’s an archangel, duh,” Mazikeen rolls her eyes. “Of course he’s going to be a hot ten. He can turn the Devil face on and off at will.”

“Huh,” John just purses her mouth. “Nice trick.”

“Go talk to him if you like,” Mazikeen folds her arms. “I’m sure he’d _love_  a little piece of blonde British ass like you. He’s had enough ditzy brunettes to last an eternity.”

“Gimme another drink then, darlin’,” she stands up, feeling someone else’s hand touch her back. “Think I’m gonna need it, like.”

Drink in hand, she moves over to Lucifer, touching several more people on the way. His eyes find hers and there’s a flash of interest. The girl he’s with follows his gaze until it lands on you and she seems to know she’s lost his attention.

She gets up and moves away with a sour look, leaving room for John. Lucifer stands up, adjusting his suit jacket before meeting her in the middle and reaching for her hand to kiss it gallantly like a gentleman.

There’s a jolt up her arm when their hands make contact. Her whole body tingles and her heart starts pounding ten to the dozen. Then a warm sensation like sliding into a hot bath that spreads from her chest down to her toes.

They just both looked at each other in shock. John knew what had happened instantly.

Lucifer Morningstar was her soulmate, her bloody  _soulmate_!

The Devil!

“Bloody hell!” she blurts out.

“What in the blue blazes?!” Lucifer cries.

She feels an odd itching on her wrist and before her very eyes, in looping script like a tattoo, the words 'What in the blue blazes?’ appear on her skin. Lucifer’s looking down at his own wrist in sheer horror.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” John says wide eyed. “My soulmate is the bloody devil?!”

“Oh no!” Lucifer rubs his jaw, not even acknowledging John’s reaction. “This shouldn’t be possible! I’m an angel! Angels don’t have soulmates. What on earth is going on?!”

“Search me, mate,” John shakes her head. “What the hell did I do to deserve this? Alright I’m not a bloody choir boy but I like to think I err on the side of good…mostly.”

“It’s simply not possible!” Lucifer continues to ignore John, too lost in his own ramblings. “Tied to one mortal for the rest of their life?! How abhorrent!”

“Oi!” John frowns. “I’m not exactly happy either, you feathered twat. I only came here to make sure you weren’t causing trouble.”

Then he seems to take notice of her for the first time,  _really_  take notice. His eyes cast down her body and up again.

“Who exactly  _are_  you anyway?” he narrows his eyes. “You talk as if you believe me.”

“I do. I keep supernaturals and celestials in line.”

“Yes, I was after a name dear,” he says impatiently.

“John, John Constantine.”

Lucifer laughs for a second before his face falls, “You’re not being serious are you?  _The_  John Constantine? The magus with Nergal’s blood? The former designated vessel of the next Messiah? Killer of demons and angels?”

“You make it sound like such a bad thing,” she tries for humour. “Can’t say  _your_  track record is bloody spotless.”

“This has got to be a joke,” he shakes his head. “Michael. I bet it’s Michael.”

“Or your dad. He’s not exactly me best mate. This would be such lovely ironic poetry for him. He always did like a good laugh.”

“Oh you’ve met him?” Lucifer seems surprised.

“Once. He disguised himself and asked what I thought of the universe and I told him straight it was a shitfest of despair. Didn’t seem none too happy.”

“Interesting,” Lucifer muses before waving Mazikeen over. “Maze, I’m going to need a lot of stiff drinks.”

“She too much to handle?” Maze casts an eye on John before she catches sight of Lucifer’s exposed wrist and grabs for it. “Hollllly shit. No way! Is that…a soulmate tattoo? Is she your soulmate? Oh my god. A supernatural sheriff and she’s your soulmate!”

“Yes Maze, I suggest if you still want limbs you go grab a top shelf bottle,” Lucifer becomes annoyed. “This is not a laughing matter.”

“Yeah it is,” Maze grins. “It’s hilarious.”

“For goodness sake, Maze!” Lucifer’s eyes flash red for just an instant but enough to confirm to John that this was, without a doubt, the actual Devil.

The actual Devil and John was his soulmate. What the everliving fuck?

Maze leaves and Lucifer just stares at John, arms folded like he’s assessing her.

“Well I suppose you  _are_  very pretty,” he seems to concede.

“Oh well…cheers I guess?” she doesn’t quite know how to take that, as a compliment or an insult?

“I never saw myself ending up with a blonde,” he muses, coming closer and looking down at her. “Especially not one with such a nefarious past, although come to think of it, I guess that’s perfect for me in a way.”

“And I expected to have someone who balanced me out,” John stares back. “Someone who could tell me no. Someone who was my moral compass. I didn’t expect an enabler. Christ, I need a ciggie now.”

She turns to leave but he takes her hand and that feeling of warmth comes back.

“You can smoke indoors in my establishment,” Lucifer tells her. “Cigar?”

“Prefer me Silk Cuts. Been on them since 1968.”

“Oh yes, that’s correct. You’re semi-immortal. How lucky for me you won’t expire in forty years.”

“I don’t plan to,” she shrugs, dragging the cigarette carton out of her inner coat pocket and sparking up. “Life might have other ideas though.”

“You know, I’m still not convinced this is real,” Lucifer shakes his head. “It must be a trick.”

“I wish it were because I can’t see any reason why we’d be a great match,” John takes a long puff.

“On paper I suppose we are. We both know about the  _other_  world, we both smoke, we both drink, we both have outrageous amounts of sex if the rumours about you are to be believed. We’re both attractive too.”

“Because that’s what matters of course,” she says sarcastically. “Can’t be an ugly bird, your dad forbid.”

Lucifer just huffs, “Look, there needs to be a certain degree of attraction for any couple. Just accept that I find you very pleasing.”

“Sure thing, mate,” she looks around, desperate to find something to get out of this awkward conversation.

She needed time to think, time to process. This was all too much. She just wanted a shit ton of booze and a good sleep.

“I should talk to Amenadiel. I’m sure he’ll know what to do,” Lucifer accepts the bottle of scotch from Maze, drinking it straight from the glass.

“You do that. I’m going to head off. Need to check into me hotel,” John starts moving away.

“You’re leaving?” he seems bewildered. “Why?”

“Just told you.”

“But you can’t. You’re my soulmate. We need to discuss things.”

“What’s there to discuss? It happened, we know now and I wanna sleep. It’s late. Night n’ all.”

She whirls on her heels, striding away but he catches her by the arm. He seems resolute in not letting her go.

“John, stay,” he says seriously.

“I’m getting another drink then,” she says after a long pause, shucking out of his grip and heading towards Maze.

Lucifer didn’t follow and John was grateful. This was spinning her head. She ordered another G&T before knocking it back quickly.

“Well hey there,” a voice says smoothly next to her.

“Alright,” she acknowledges the attractive looking businessman to her right.

“Listen, we’re probably not soulmates but do you fancy getting out of here?” he tries. “I like you.”

“You don’t know me, lad,” she gives him a baleful eyebrow.

“No but does it matter? Life is short whilst we’re waiting for 'The One’.

“'Tis indeed but doesn’t mean I’ll put about for anyone.”

“Let me buy you a drink then and we’ll see how it goes,” he presses, touching her shoulder and running his hand down her back. She stiffens, not enjoying the contact.

“I believe the lady is hinting for you to go,” Lucifer says from behind her.

“I was just talking,” the man protests. “I thought she might like a drink.”

“You thought wrong,” Lucifer seems to tower over him. “And she’s not available. So do please stop touching her.”

“She doesn’t seem attached,” he tries to argue.

“She is. Very much. Now leave,” Lucifer says more forcefully.

The guy makes a grab for John again, trying to pull her off the stool and to her feet, “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s hit another club where there’s less assholes around.”

“You’ve got five seconds to let go or we’ve got a problem.”

“Sure,” the guy snorts, not believing him.

Lucifer grips him by the lapels of his suit, hoisting him into the air a little, “I don’t quite believe you heard me. I said the lady is not interested and she’s taken. In fact, she’s taken by  _me_. She’s  _my_ soulmate, she has  _my_  words on her skin. I trust you understand now?”

The guy just nods dumbly, trying to get his feet back on the ground. He scarpers up towards the mezzanine and disappears out of sight.

John’s just confused by the whole thing. Lucifer hadn’t really shown that he was particularly thrilled with the revelation but here he was, being incredibly possessive, protective even, over her.

“Didn’t realise you cared,” John says bewildered.

“As much as this is an uncomfortable situation, you  _are_  my soulmate apparently,” Lucifer turns to her. “Which means anyone who tries to court you has me to answer to.”

“And what about you?” she points at him with her glass. “I hear you’ve shagged most of the women and men in LA by now. Gonna give up that lifestyle for little old me?”

He seems to ponder it, “I mean I can’t make a fair assessment until we’ve had sex.”

“Typical,” she rolls her eyes.

“Are you open to orgies?”

That question makes her spit her drink in surprise, “No I bloody am not! Can’t give me best performance if I’m sharing it between folk.”

“Hmmm, we’ll have to discuss this further then.”

“Look, I’m going back to me hotel. This is too much for one night.”

“Please.”

The request makes her stop. He does sound sincere at least.

“Come up to the penthouse and we can talk privately,” Lucifer adds.

“Fine, you’ve got ten minutes.”

It certainly is impressive with its ancient walls, long library and grand piano. The view of Los Angeles out on the balcony seems stunning too.

“You like it?” he notes her expression.

“It’s alright,” she goes for casual, not wanting to admit this was the nicest digs she’d been in in a while.

“So look, I need to get to know you because if we  _are_  truly meant to be soulmates then I suppose we’ll be around each other from now on. I’ll check in the morning with my brother whether this has ever happened before to confirm it.”

“Alright, what do you wanna talk about then?” she folds her arms against herself for comfort.

She didn’t like opening up to people. The more folk knew about her, the more it could be used against her. She’d learned that the hard way once.

“Do you find me attractive for starters?” he grins playfully and she can tell he’s trying to lighten the mood.

“Not bad. Saw meself more with a long haired rocker type though.”

“Ah yes, you were in a punk band, were you not?” he searches his brain. “I remember reading up on you when you tricked the First of the Fallen into curing your lung cancer. Sterling work by the way. He always was an ignominious upstart.”

“That’s the polite term for him,” she agrees. “I woulda said complete bloody bell end.”

“What a quaint way you have with words,” Lucifer chuckles. “You know, it’s really quite refreshing talking about this kind of thing. Usually no one believes me. I’ve had no one to confide in.”

“Likewise, especially when we’ve been in the same circles.”

“So you do magic then?” he sits on the bar, leaning forward. “May I see something? I’m always fascinated by humans who can do it.”

She conjures a fiery image of a pitchfork and horns, shimmering in her hands.

“That’s just the parlour trick stuff though. The big spells are saved for enemies.”

“Like him you mean?” Lucifer points to the balcony.

She whirls around, spotting a skinwalker that was crouched on top of the railing. She recognised it as having stalked her around LA for the past two days. It had never gotten close enough for her to attack it, too wary.

“How long has it been there?” she frowns.

“About five minutes,” Lucifer shrugs. “Doesn’t seem to be harming anyone.”

“It’s out of place,” she muses. “Urban environments aren’t their bag. This must be hella disorientating for it.”

“Does it bear you ill will?”

“No idea. Been following me for a while. Never heard of a friendly skinwalker,” she looks back at it and the skin seems to ripple a little. “Let’s find out.”

She conjures a lasso of magic, throwing it at the skinwalker. It neatly falls over its body before she pulls tight, yanking it forward into the room. It skitters near her feet, hissing an awful sound before it starts repeating the last words of the previous thing it’s killed.

“Call Constantine! She’ll save us! Please hurry!”

She recognises the voice of Ritchie, a long term friend and something hardens in her stomach. The thing had been curious about her, come to scope her out, come to see whether she was a threat.

Damn bloody right she was.

The magic of the lasso falters as her focus does. She’s too angry about her friend to concentrate.

The skinwalker bursts free, launching itself at her face. She manages to get a wheel of flame up in-between her and it and it squeals horribly, stumbling backwards away from the light.

“Is that all you have?” Lucifer teases.

“I’d like to see you do better, Morningstar,” she growls, shooing the creature back against the wall.

“Gladly. Let me show you how it’s done,” he grins before she sees wings unfurling from his back.

He rushes forward, grabbing the skinwalker by the neck and throwing it so hard to the floor that it cracks the marble.

“There, easy peasy,” he dusts his hands off. “Don’t know why you’re stressing so much.”

She wants to point out that it’s getting back to its feet but she keeps schtum, her ego bruised by his showboating. She wanted to get one up on him for thinking this was a piss easy job.

When the skinwalker grabs Lucifer, twisting around and biting him in the chest, the archangel yells in surprise. He flails a little before swotting it off, the monster skidding across the floor where John produces a Navajo dagger from her trenchcoat, leaping forward and plunging it straight into where the heart should lie.

It shrieks in a horrendous way but it’s mostly swallowed by the music from downstairs. Then the thing crumbles into dust.

“Easy, huh?” she smirks at Lucifer. “Sure, it’s easy when you have the right equipment for the job.”

Lucifer smooths his errant hair back, looking temporarily embarrassed, “Yes…well…I was testing that you knew what you were doing and clearly you do. You’re very well versed in continental monsters.”

“Admit it, Morningstar. I’m just better at getting rid of the things that go bump in the night,” she grandstands, her arms out wide.

“Fine,” he checks his cufflinks. “I’ll give you this one. Impressive. At least I won’t have to save you all the time.”

“Sounds like you’re accepting this soulmate thing, lad,” she notes.

“Maybe I am. Maybe you’ve really piqued my curiosity,” he moves back to her. “Maybe I really like how I feel when we touch.”

As much as John didn’t want to admit it, she did too. The warm feeling she got was comforting, it was safe. Safe was not a thing she experienced much these days. She could see how people got easily addicted to it and why soulmates always overindulged in PDA. Christ, was she gonna become like those people? Always groping, always kissing?

“May I?” he asks gallantly, extending his hand for hers.

“Since you asked,” she nods, taking it.

Instantly she relaxed, like the tension of the earlier fight was washed away. She caught herself sighing like an idiot.

“Maybe soulmates aren’t such a bad thing,” he says softly, rubbing her hand with the pad of his thumb.

It was like the magnetism increased when they had contact. She found she was moving to be against him, that she was staring into his eyes, her pulse quickening. It was like being a bloody teenager all over again.

The stray thought wandered through her mind that if just holding hands produced a feeling like this, what would a kiss do? Then she immediately chided herself for it.

Already she was becoming comfortable with the idea of the Devil being her soulmate. It really should be filling her with dread but…..here she was, imagining snogging him.

_You really are fucked up, Johnny._

“I’d like to push my luck, if I may,” Lucifer motions with his eyes to her lips. “I can see you’re thinking the same.”

“I guess,” she tries to seem nonchalant but it’s not convincing.

He leans down, his lips touching hers and it’s like this spark that ignites in her chest. Suddenly she wants more, she wants to wrap herself around him, to never let go, to never stop. The passion just waves over her as her hands suddenly come up, one resting on his chest and the other curling around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

His tongue slips into her mouth, seeking hers and it’s like an explosion of arousal. She’d never felt anything this powerful before and it scared her to death.

She broke away quickly, her chest heaving and her mind completely fogged, “What the bloody fucking hell were that?”

“Something I’d very much wish to repeat,” Lucifer’s eyes are sparkling as she looks at them. “Well I must say, if that’s how it will be from now on, who needs extra partners?”

“This is crazy.”

“Yes. Yes, it is but I think I’m rather beginning to accept it.”

“I….I just…..”

“Come now, John,” he reassures her. “I know you felt it. You know, if you’re scared of my reputation, just remember I’m not as bad as the Bible propaganda makes out.”

“’S'pose,” she mumbles. “Bible were written by a right bunch of sanctimonious cunts.”

“Exactly,” Lucifer purrs, pulling her flush to him. “So push that out of your mind. I’d really like to know you better John, both emotionally and intimately. So please, come to bed with me. Show me who John Constantine is.”

She really shouldn’t. Surely it would damn her soul to sleep with the Devil but then again…she was already thrice damned at this point. Did it really matter? I mean, the evidence was there on her skin that he was intended for her.

What the hell. She’d done seedier things in her time. Just add one more to the list, right?

“Lead the way,” she says finally.


End file.
